


Reasons Why

by Prumery



Category: APH - Fandom, APH Hetalia, Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prumery/pseuds/Prumery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilbert loved Alfred.<br/>Gilbert loved Arthur.<br/>Arthur wondered if Gilbert did, though. That he really loved him when all this time there had always been someone before him.<br/>But Francis showed him that he could love again, and sometimes loving everything a person had is okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reasons Why

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gypsywriter135](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsywriter135/gifts).



> I cried four fucking times writing this at two am in the morning here have this i can't anymore

Arthur has never and will never love someone as much as he loved Gilbert.  
This was something that he accepted a couple of years after he died, and still lives with it today even though it has been about 13 years since he lost him.  
Arthur had never been in love with someone before. That's something he found out two years after he lost Gilbert.  
Arthur had never been in love before Gilbert. He had always.... to an extent felt it. To an extent felt love for someone.  
But Gilbert... Gilbert brought something else out in him.  
Arthur met Gilbert in a less that normal way. He was walking down the street with flowers to put on his Mum's grave. Daises had always been her favorite and it's not like Alistar did anything for her, the jerk.  
He saw him walking with his head down rain pelting at his body, and his face gloomy. He walked like he had just given up on the world, and as the gentleman that Arthur was, he stopped him.  
“Are you quite alright?”  
He looked up at him with such sadness in his eyes that he only recognized from seeing his father come from his own mother's grave. He'd seen it enough times to recognize it as someone who just came back from realizing they lost a loved one.  
“No... not really.” He whispered, his red eyes filled with tears. He was a funny looking fellow, white as snow and red eyes like flames. He spoke with an accent and he spoke with hidden narcissism.  
“... I'm to put flowers on me mum's grave, I... could take you for a coffee a little after...” He whispered, putting the umbrella over the man's body as he was wet. He seemed not to mind.  
“...Alright...” He agreed and both of them walked to a small little tomb at the other side of the graveyard. They were quiet. He stood with the umbrella, above the tomb as Arthur quietly said some prayers, put the flowers and stood up again.  
“Okay then, chap. Let's get you some tea to warm you up.”  
That's when a smile broke over his face and Arthur felt a pause at his chest. He'd never felt like this for another person in such a short period, or in such a long time. He knew what it was.  
Maybe it was because he had seen him so sad and to see something so nice from the man was comforting.  
“I fucking hate tea.”  
“You little bugger, I was trying to be nice.” Arthur hissed, his sense of bitterness not loosing itself to the fact that he felt that warmth spread in his chest.  
“Thank you... I'm okay with black tea though. As close as coffee.”  
“Fuck you, coffee is disgusting.”  
The albino tsked and put his finger up.  
“Not in front of your mumsy.”  
He imitated his accent and Arthur had never felt so ashamed to say that he enjoyed it.  
They went to his home and Arthur, as the nice fellow he was, put his clothes in the dryer. Which cost him a large jacket as the man wore no shirt underneath his own.  
“You're a hassle, I just wanted to get you warm.”  
“Shouldn't have offered.”  
He laughed, sitting at his seat and sipping on the warm beverage the british man served. They sat together and the man, named Gilbert after a set of well deserved introductions, then asked.  
“When did you loose your mother?”  
Arthur smiled gently as he put down his cup.  
“Ah... she died when I was about 24... The old woman put up a good fight against cancer. But evidently she lost.... She was a strong one...” He sighed. He saw Gilbert run his finger over the circle of the coffee cup.  
“And you? Who where you there for? Mother? Father?”  
He was silent. And then that sadness returned into his eyes. The man coughed.  
“My ex husband.”  
Arthur froze.  
“Oh, dear me i'm sorry. I didn't mean to-”  
“N-no, it's alright. It's been two years, I need to stop being so sad.”  
Arthur sighed out of his nose and smiled.  
“It's alright to still hurt. Want to tell me about him?”  
Gilbert smiled.  
“His name was Alfred F. Jones and he was everything that was wonderful in my life...”  
Arthur then saw that this man in front of him was completely and utterly in love. He had been and he still was.  
Alfred had been 30 when he'd been shot on the job. Gilbert and him had dated since high school. Arthur stared at Gilbert as he let out all these kept emotions about the sweet sounding blond and soon enough Gilbert stopped.  
Tears dripped down his face and he smiled gently.  
“And... then he was shot through the chest... and now I just visit his grave when I can.” He whispered. He was an artist, drawing on the side, but recently drawn too dark themes to have his art sold.  
Arthur understood.  
“You sound like you really loved him.”  
“I do...”  
He said it in a future tense. As if he was still alive.  
Arthur heard this a lot from Gilbert. He heard it a lot, and he remembers the exact day that he stopped saying it in a future tense.  
After Gilbert and him had gotten to know each other, Arthur asked him out on a date.  
And it was alright. Gilbert was a little rusty, as the only person he ever dated was Alfred and another man before him. Arthur, of course, had had more experience as he was 32 and still on the dating scene.  
Gilbert had been a little...awkward.  
He didn't speak much and he only poked his food quietly.  
“Aren't you going to eat?”  
“I... I don't.. Maybe...” He whispered, staring at the plate.  
“What's wrong?”  
“I don't know...” He had whispered, trying to figure out himself. Arthur felt like maybe he had pushed him, and the night ended kind of awkward.  
So instead, Arthur called him and took him on a walk.  
That's when Arthur noticed that Gilbert wanted closeness. He didn't want anything fancy, or nice or anything extravaganza. He wanted someone to talk to, someone to be with.  
And Arthur felt that ache at his chest again.  
And that's how this start.  
Gilbert would smile at him, and soon the clouds behind his eyes were gone. They left and soon enough there was a side of Gilbert that Arthur didn't think he'd ever see.  
He smiled when Arthur kissed his cheek and he'd whisper awkward little things that made Arthur laugh. Things that he didn't expect to come from someone who had loved someone else so much and for such a long time.  
Arthur looked back on that constantly. It was hard to think that he could ever love Arthur, as yes they did fight a lot, but he was always being compared to Alfred in his mind. A dead man that took Gilbert's heart before he could and gave him something that in a way Arthur never could.  
He constantly thought about this, but now that he had moved on from Gilbert's death, he realized that no it wasn't that. That no Gilbert didn't love him more than Alfred, and no Gilbert didn't love him more than he had loved Alfred.  
He always loved Arthur in his own way.  
It was when they first made love that Arthur felt some sort of anger towards Alfred. Though he had been dead for about three years now (Gilbert really had not wanted to get intimate with him for about a year, which confused Arthur as he was a huge pervert) Arthur still felt a little... ache towards the man he'd never met.  
Gilbert had been trying to work on his newest project, and he'd been stressing out about it. Of course, Arthur felt a little full of himself since he saw that since he and Gilbert started dating that the colors slowly were brought into his paintings.  
Arthur smirked at the albino as he angry fought with his canvas and then sat on the ground and sighed angrily.  
“What are you suppose to be doing?”  
“A figure for the art community.” Gilbert whispered and Arthur sat beside him. Gently, Arthur brought him to his chest and kissed his head.  
“I know how to relieve stress.”  
Gilbert had stuttered and pulled away, making Arthur laugh and lean forward. He kissed him and Gilbert gave into it instead of pulling away like he usually had done.  
And soon Gilbert was kissing Arthur and they shed their clothes and god, Gilbert was really perfect.  
Arthur laid below Gilbert, when the man swallowed and stared at him.  
“What is it?”  
Gilbert was silent, tracing the inside of Arthur's leg. He had a blush on his face and Arthur was a little.... angry that he wasn't doing anything. Arthur was used to bottoming and he didn't mind that Gilbert topped, but come on hurry.  
“... Can we switch...?” Gilbert whispered, as he couldn't find his voice well. Arthur of course had to wonder why.  
But he switched and Gilbert looked a lot more comfortable.  
The night passed by quickly, with Arthur a little out of practice pleasuring someone else and Gilbert making the oddest noises he'd ever heard from him.  
Later, as Arthur finished and Gilbert rolled over and stayed quiet he stared at the ceiling and asked.  
“Why?”  
“Why what.” Gilbert was quiet, not really wanting to talk as he felt spent and awkward and a little open and he didn't want to talk.  
“Why didn't... you know...” Arthur said gently and turned to Gilbert. The albino's back was covered in slight scratches and Arthur stared.  
“Uhm... Alfred didn't like topping. I always did, and I don't want to compare you to him.”  
Arthur, with good reason, felt a little uncomfortable at that, but in a way felt a little glad that the man wanted to change. He didn't want to compare lovers and that wasn't bad.  
But it still hurt Arthur.  
When he looks back at this, Arthur could see that he was a little selfish and jealous of a man that was dead and may have had Gilbert before him. And he didn't blame his emotions then and he likes to believe that with his age now that he wouldn't have done that.  
He would have, no doubt.  
Gilbert finished his painting with the sudden inspiration from their love making (Arthur gloated at that) and got his career back into track.  
And this is how everything became the most amazing thing that Arthur had ever had happen to him.  
Gilbert... changed him.  
He changed him in a sort of way.  
Gilbert would smile and him and would bring him out of his shell. He'd make him happy and the bitterness that he held for some odd reason began to leave.  
Gilbert was and is the only reason that Arthur could have ever given into Francis.  
Arthur lifted his head from his chair and stared at the man across the room. They were well into an old age, as Arthur had met Francis a good amount into his 50's.  
Francis hummed quietly as he sowed some jeans that he accidentally tore as they had walked home on a windy night. Arthur had scolded him, and Francis had rolled his eyes and waved him off, telling him that it was a tear that he could fix and Arthur bitched more.  
He smiled at him, feeling his chest ache at the love he felt for the darker blond. He was so different from everything he and Gilbert shared and he was so... perfect. In his own way.  
Gilbert had made him loose his bitterness. Made him loose the hate he had for his brothers, his family, his life. He understood the problems that the man had from his... imaginary friends.  
And when everything was perfect, it suddenly wasn't anymore.  
Gilbert had come home a little late. His eyes had been dark and Arthur stared at him from his table, reading the paper that he accidentally forgot to get.  
“Hm? Late night at the office?” He whispered, as the man had gotten a job working as an artist for a firm. It was a well paying job and they had enough in the bank for a couple years.  
Gilbert sat down in front of Arthur and whispered-  
“I'm dying.”  
Arthur had not heard him and lifted his gaze. His face was confused as Gilbert had tears dripping down his face and he wasn't sure if he understood what was going on.  
“What was that, dear?”  
Gilbert raised his head and he sobbed.  
“Fuck, Arthur i'm fucking dying.”  
He covered his face and Arthur stiffened. He stood up and then went to the other side of the table and held Gilbert as he sobbed and cried.  
“Why, what's wrong??”  
Gilbert clutched Arthur and he messily cried in his arms.  
“I have fucking cancer. Through out my entire body.” Gilbert said turning to Arthur and covering his face again.  
Arthur had to hold his breathe. He felt his chest hurt and tears dripped down his face.  
He was going to loose him. He was going to loose something that he loved and cared for. He was going to loose someone else to cancer, to what took away his mother, he was taking away Gilbert too.  
Arthur held him and suddenly he understood what Gilbert went through. And there was a connection between them.  
There was a connection and suddenly Arthur realized how much he really loved Gilbert. How much he really needed Gilbert and god for this moment he hated so much that at this moment, at this moment that he was loosing everything.  
He appreciated him. He loved him, he adored him and he... couldn't believe he was loosing the only thing that held him together.  
Gilbert wouldn't do much of anything anymore. He occasionally sketched and occasionally did things. He had numbed himself down, but he was still loving.  
He still held his love and care for Arthur.  
He'd wake up and hold Arthur, tightly and as long as he could before Arthur had to leave to work and spend an entire day with random sweet messages from Gilbert.  
He decided to take a month off work. A month and Gilbert loved every day of that month. Arthur completely adored him that entire month.  
And... He didn't think he'd be gone so fast.  
Arthur woke up to hear Gilbert vomiting. There was a quick movement and then Arthur quickly called the hospital.  
There was flashes of things and Arthur doesn't really remember anything besides Gilbert crying and trying to tell him something.  
Something.  
Something.  
He doesn't remember.  
He doesn't remember what he wanted, all he remembers is Gilbert sitting in that bed and staring at him. He still looked so young and he still looked... like Gilbert.  
“Arthur...”  
He whispered. His breathing was deeper and Arthur felt tears at his eyes. He understood what Gilbert felt like when he held Alfred as he bled out in his arms.  
He saw the life start to drain from Gilbert's eyes, but he smiled at him.  
“I love you...”  
“I love you too...”  
“I've always loved you...”  
And Arthur smiled at Gilbert and Gilbert smiled back at him.  
And he remembered a noise and that's how he lost him.  
Arthur swiped his fingers underneath his eyes and he stared at the window. He was quiet as he remembered Gilbert's last breaths and his last words and...  
“Mon ami are you alright?”  
Francis came... how long after? 5 years? They had fought the first time they met. The first time they met, Francis bumped into him and dropped his coffee (oh, god Gilbert really did change him) and made an entire scene in front of everyone.  
He made a scene, screaming at the french man and ending up fighting back. They got so angry at each other that someone actually had to intervene and tell them to go to the back to let off some steam.  
Of course, Francis ended up apologizing and making fun of his “colorful” lingo.  
He admitted that it was half of his boy.... ex boyfriends...  
Francis had stared and smiled.  
“Well, tell him he has a perfect lingo. That man must've been a wonder to his mother.”  
And Francis suddenly jumped and didn't understand why Arthur burst into tears and started sobbing because honestly he wasn't over that albino arsehole and Francis awkwardly pet his shoulder as he sobbed and cried.  
He met another person to help him though.  
This time, Francis understood from the beginning.  
Francis had lost a friend dear to him years ago, one that he had loved and she had never loved him like that. Though she loved him, she never gave into Francis.  
Francis missed her dearly and Arthur only listened like he had 13 years ago when he lost Gilbert.  
Francis... Francis was different than Gilbert. He was sweet and nice and affectionate and different than Gilbert's sturdy and somewhat awkward affections. Francis kissed his cheeks and his and Arthur's relationship started a lot faster than his and Gilbert's.  
Three weeks into their relationship they were already moving in together and getting comfortable. Maybe it was because of their old age and maybe because there was a strange... connection there. There was something between them.  
Arthur, of course, held back information about Gilbert. He didn't have any time to think about him, but at nights he'd spend staring at the wall and seeing his face like he had been for 5 years.  
Arthur understood why Gilbert hadn't wanted to compare his and Alfred's love making, as when Francis kissed him the first time and wanted to get intimate, he was reminded of Gilbert.  
“Switch?”  
“Quoi?”  
Francis had stared. He was always a lot more delicate and a lot smaller, so he expected Arthur to take charge. Of course the blond had done that for years with Gilbert, but for some reason this didn't fit with him. It reminded him too much of Gilbert and honestly he didn't want that with Francis.  
“Just... Just switch.”  
Francis had shrugged.  
Just like he had.  
It was something.... odd about the fact that Francis was so accepting of Arthur not speaking about Gilbert. He then realized...  
“Well, Gilbert loves roses-”  
“... Amore Gilbert is not alive....”  
… He did what Gilbert did when they first started dating.  
He swallowed and Francis stared at him as he put the roses on the table. Suddenly Arthur grabbed them and took them to the waste basket. Francis gasped and ran to him, taking them from his arms.  
“MON AMORE!”  
“I don't want to... make you think that i'm still stuck with Gilbert.”  
Francis was quiet. He stared at the flowers and gently touched them, petting them and then he sighed.  
“You are still stuck.”  
Arthur glared, but Francis shushed him.  
“....You are. And you are not ready to tell me about him, you are not ready to show me how much love you had for him. Gilbert opened up to you on the first day and that's what helped him heal. You haven't opened up to me in these couple of months, and that's why you're still stuck on him.”  
Arthur was quiet as he set the roses down. He stared at them and then shook his head.  
“Alright. How about this. When I figure out that i'm truly and totally and completely in love with you... I'll tell you about Gilbert...”  
Francis smiled gently, knowing that Arthur had always been blunt and he did love him, but there was a certain something missing.  
“I accept.”  
“Good...”  
Arthur stared at the wall, seeing the soft cream mix with yellows and oranges. He saw that the sun was going down and today was 7 years since Gilbert died and 2 since he found Francis.  
And he then understood why Gilbert loved him. And he understood that he could be in love with different people and he could fall in love again, not the same way, but he could.  
And he turned to Francis.  
“Francis?”  
“Yes dear?”  
He turned to him, his long blond hair falling over his shoulders and his face pretty in the soft light.  
“...Have I ever told you that Gilbert really liked to wake me up by jumping on the bed and smacking me.”  
Francis stared at him, his eyes confused, his brows knitted and then a flicker of recognition passed through blue eyes.  
“Oh...” His voice grew quiet and tears filled his eyes. He smiled at him and quietly walked to the chair beside him and sat down.  
“And why did he do that?”  
Arthur took a sip of his coffee and grinned.  
“Because he thought life was too great to wake up to a cliché “Good morning” and a kiss.”  
“You must have really loved him.”  
“I loved him... I really did...”  
And gently he put his hand on Francis' hand and the blond man smiled as tears filled his eyes.  
Past tense.  
…  
..

 

….  
“He's a funny looking dude, Gilbert.”  
“Yeah, he is.”  
“You fell in love with a stuffy british guy, I thought you said you liked happy people.”  
“The only happy person I had is you, idiot. And now I have you back.”  
“You're cute....”  
…  
..  
“Hey, tiger?”  
“Yeah pretty boy?”  
“... When he comes... Can I get to know him?”  
“I don't think he'll mind...”  
“When is he coming?”  
“About another 40 years. He's a fighter.”  
“Gilbert.”  
“Yeah Alfred?”  
“I missed you....”  
“I missed you too.”


End file.
